Home for Christmas
by Aiko-chan
Summary: Edd makes his yearly trip home for Christmas, not to visit friends or family, but rather to pay his respects...


Author's Notes: Woah... where did THIS come from? O.o My domain for fic-writing is usually 100% anime. However, for bizarre reasons that I can't explain, I felt oddly compelled to write this. Please excuse lack of quality or explanation, I'm not sure how this is going to turn out. Ed, Edd, 'n' Eddy fanfics certainly aren't my strong suit.  
  
Disclaimer: **Chibi Washuu pops in** Aiko-chan hates writing disclaimers, so I am going to take her place. **ahem** "Ed, Edd, 'n' Eddy" and all involved characters are © AKA Cartoon, Inc. Aiko-chan doesn't own them, nah nah nah, don't sue. Oh, and I'm © AIC/Pioneer. **flashes a peace sign** Read on, O Great... Readers! ^_^*  
  
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Five winters had come and gone, and for each, I've traveled the long trip home to visit him. I don't have a wife and kids to leave behind --- I never did get married. I suppose that's for the better, so I can spend Christmas with him without worrying about family.  
  
Well... I guess I feel bad for leaving my mother. She really likes to spend the holidays with me, especially since Dad left her... And she worries about me, always coming all this way, just to see him. I'm sorry that I worry her, but it's important to me.  
  
Is this really the sixth anniversary, the sixth Christmas? Have six years really passed since he died?  
  
Looking out the window, seeing the same landscape fly by that I see every year when I make my commute back to my childhood home, I wonder for the hundreth time --- no, probably the thousandth time --- what he would have become. He was incredibly irresponsible, selfish, and narrow-minded, but might he have matured, if he had been given the chance? I really wonder. I guess I'll never know.  
  
I've never told anyone, but when we were kids, I had this dream, a hope or fantasy, if you will, where we would have a sort of reunion, every Christmas or Thanksgiving or Fourth of July. All of us who had known each other as kids would bring our families, meet up, and... remember. Those of us who were enemies in our childhood would laugh together over the things that adults laughed over, although I didn't know what those humorous things were when I had this dream. It was a hopeless kind of wish, I guess. I haven't seen any of them, save for him, since high school.  
  
But the point is, even if I did see the rest of them, my dream would never come true. I imagined all of us together. Well, he wouldn't be there. He'd be stuck in the cold ground, as alone as a person can ever be.  
  
I think that's the main reason I always come back to see him. I can't stand to think of him being all alone in that cemetary on Christmas, on the anniversary of his death. So I have to pay my respects.  
  
The bus slows, and I stand, get my small suitcase from the luggage compartment, and head down the aisle. I step off the bus into the light snow and begin my walk to the cemetary.  
  
Every year, when I come, I wonder if he can hear me when I talk to him. I wonder if he knows I'm visiting him, trying to save him from his loneliness. I wonder, in the case that he -does- know, if he appreciates my efforts.  
  
I mean, logically, I know there's no such thing as ghosts, and I know the dead can't hear. But sometimes I like to pretend he can hear me.  
  
I walk through the gates, making my way between the gravemarkers. I'm one of the few who don't dislike cemetaries. I find them peaceful, especially talking to him.  
  
Eventually, I reach his grave. It's marked by one of those simple marble pieces set in the ground, bearing his name and the dates of his birth and death. Only fifteen years. It isn't fair.  
  
I sit down on the frosty grass next to the grave. I unlatch my suitcase, open it, and take out the pressed flowers my mother made. They're dry and sort of brownish, but I suppose that's better. He never really liked flowers too much.  
  
I place the drab flowers in front of the marker, then cross my legs comfortably, "Indian-style," and rest my elbows on my knees. "You've missed a lot, you know," I begin. I almost always start out that way, since he -does- miss a lot. "I got a letter. Sarah had a baby. Can you believe it? They don't know who the father is, and her parents are ready to kill her." I shake my head. "Never thought -that- would happen. Did you?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Of course you didn't. Nobody did. But it happened. Oh, hey," I add, remembering something and digging through my suitcase, "I've got something special for you this Christmas."  
  
I take a can of beer out of my suitcase and set it by the marker. "You're twenty-one now," I tell him, "and of legal drinking age. You always looked forward to this, although I can't imagine why. Alcoholic drinks make me nauseous."  
  
The wind starts blowing a little, rustling the tall grass on the far side of the graveyard that's beginning to wilt from the winter cold. I hear his voice, all-too familiar, on the wind, whining, "Double D!" I always hear him --- my mind tends to play tricks on me when I'm here.  
  
"You were always so whiny. I wonder if you'd have matured by now."  
  
I sigh, picking at the grass. It's pretty dead by now. Kind of like him.  
  
"Well," I finally say, after a long period of silence, "I kept my promise, Eddy. I've visited you every year." I glance at the grass covering his grave. "Are you still lonely?"  
  
More silence. I shiver a little, from the wind or from other things, I don't know.  
  
But I'll keep coming back. Every year, no matter what, I'll keep my promise to Eddy. I'll always be home for him on Christmas.  
  
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Author's Notes (Again): Hm... that didn't turn out too bad. Not quite as I would have liked, but not too bad. **squishes a few Smurfs** Have fun, kiddies, and play safe.  
  
Luv and cinnamon toast crunch, and may you find peace in the gluteus maximus of the spider monkeys.  
Aiko-chan 


End file.
